


Sunlight

by hiddenoptimist



Series: Night-Walkers [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Night-Walkers, Rebellion, Rescue Missions, Sexual Content, Slavery, Torture, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenoptimist/pseuds/hiddenoptimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was called the Sunlight Slaughter. When the sun reigned, the humans would raid homes, silver stakes in hand. Under the cover of night, bonfires made from corpses would ward away the undead. The humans rebelled. Ash lined the streets.</p><p>It's been a year and a half since Tess' corpse was left outside for the scavengers. The world has collapsed - the humans have reclaimed their country, and night-walkers are a dying breed. A new leader has emerged, a human by the name of Hunter Everett. He intends to eradicate the night-walkers entirely. All but his personal pets, of course.</p><p>But one night-walker slipped through his net.</p><p>A night-walker that could walk in sunlight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel to Night-Walkers!

The large, Victorian house ebbed with atmosphere. Coloured lights flashed in the windows through the thick curtains. The back door was propped open and people spilled out into the night, bringing the atmosphere out with them. From inside the walls came screams of pain and pleasure. 

The house was positioned in the centre of forty acres of land. A single, winding road led from the nearest sign of civilisation out to the residence. All around the edge of the estate, thick woodland grew like a defending wall. Electric fences sneaked through the trees, tripping anyone who dared attempt to penetrate the estate. On the edge of the land, a gate manned by two guards controlled the entry and exit of visitors. To gain access to the land, you would need to provide ID and agree to wear a tracking device.

It was one of the reasons why I’d come over the fence.

It had been a year and a half since I had been kidnapped by Louis. He and his gang of night-walkers had used me as a sex toy, but somehow feelings had developed - I was now convinced it had been nothing more than Stockholm Syndrome. I still felt like it was my fault Tom had kidnapped my night-walkers in the first place. He’d tried to turn me just so he could kill me in front of Louis, but something had gone wrong with the procedure. It was presumed that I hadn’t survived the change - few humans actually do.

They were wrong. I’d woken up the next morning, lying outside Tom’s house where my carcass had apparently been left for scavengers, and found myself a night-walker. The sun didn’t burn me. In fact, it felt just as soft on my marbled skin as it had when I was a human. All night-walkers received an individual ability, and mine seemed to be sunlight-resistant. I’d sworn to get my night-walkers back, even if it meant killing Tom. For a while, I’d stayed close to Tom’s mansion, becoming stronger and perfecting my new abilities, but I’d never entered the mansion.

Then the world had collapsed around me. Humans were beginning to realise they outnumbered the night-walkers, and had begun to band together to rid the land of the vampiric presence. Rumours came from all ends of the country about small groups of humans rising up and killing night-walkers.

They called it the Sunlight Slaughtering.

The rebellion had grown and humans were reclaiming the country. Night-walkers had been slaughtered during the day with silver stakes while they were defenceless. At night, the bodies were piled up in the city centre and set alight; a warning to surviving night-walkers. The only reason I hadn’t been killed was because I didn’t die. I could walk among the humans, and as long as I kept pace with them they believed I was human too.

I’d watched as the renegade army marched to Tom’s house. They’d planned this attack for two months straight; I’d sat in at the meetings, held outside at noon. Some of the human servants Tom had captured had deserted their usual daytime jobs to rebel against their masters. I didn’t blame them. Tom had been a real dick to humans.

Their plan looked as though it would fit my timeline perfectly. I could get into the house in all the chaos and rescue my night-walkers before they were staked. It was a risky plan, but I’d manage it.

My plan was foiled before it had even started. One of Tom’s servants spoke up about Louis, asking if they were to be killed too. At that time, it had been months since I’d laid eyes on any of my night-walkers, and according to the servant all five of them had been broken into submission. It scared me.

The human in charge said he’d do something about it, and the meeting was disbanded. It wasn’t until the next day that I learned exactly what he had done.

The humans had gathered together in small groups, but a vague form of government had emerged from the ruins of the country. What used to be London had already been completely rid of night-walkers, and humans now ran the territory they had taken back from the old parliament buildings. The country’s self-appointed leader was Hunter Everett, a young man who had taken charge the moment he’d seen the opening for a leader. Most of the time, Everett stayed in London, but he’d finally left the city.

He’d shown up at the next meeting, eager to help with the destruction of Tom. His plans had alarmed me and ruined my own: he wanted Louis. Most of the renegades were too shocked to protest. Everett went on to explain his desire. He’d heard that Louis and his night-walkers were the most powerful in the country and he wanted to put them “in their place.” I’d seen through his cover story immediately. In owning them, Everett would be in a position of power; nobody would want to challenge him and his pet night-walkers.

The humans had raided the house before I could get in. Tom and his night-walkers had been dragged out into the street just as they began to breathe and had their frozen hearts ripped from their chests with silver stakes. They had been burned on a bonfire on the lawn behind the mansion.

My night-walkers were also dragged from the mansion - and immediately chained with silver. I wasn’t able to see them before they were tossed into the back of a van. Everett announced he was taking them “off our hands,” and would imprison them in London. He and the van had left almost as soon as the dawn rose on the town no longer plagued by Tom and his minions.

I followed my night-walkers down to London, slipping past the security measures around Everett’s house. For months, I’d camped out in the woods, always too terrified to enter the house - I’d most likely be shot on sight. Normal bullets wouldn’t harm me, but as soon as the guards realised that they’d pull out the silver ammunition. I wouldn’t make it out alive.

So I’d stayed in the woods, feeding on any human that dared come too far into my claimed territory. I wasn’t even sure my night-walkers were still alive.

Music floated from the house into the forest. My ears twitched. In the new age following the Sunlight Slaughter, bands had formed. Humanity was recovering so quickly it was almost as if the night-walkers had never existed. They had technology again. The night-walker era had merely been a bump in the road for them.

I shrank back against the nearest tree as two humans stumbled into the forest. They were obviously a couple, hands all over each other, and they dropped to the ground inches from where I was standing. I looked away as he began to peel her shirt from her body, exposing the pale skin beneath. The scent rising from them, a mixture of sweat, arousal, and blood, made my mouth water. I’d already drank today, and tried to limit myself. My worst fear was that I would end up like Tom, treating humans as though they were nothing but blood banks.

I was becoming sick of this party. I was sick of the two humans pawing at each other on the ground - didn’t they have any self-respect? There were perfectly adequate beds inside - and I was sick of Everett showing off his ‘pets’. I knew what they did in that house during a party; it was torture at its worst. Screams reached my ears even as the thought passed through my mind. A pale ribbon of scent wafted around me: night-walker blood. This party had to end.

I looked up at the sky. A fat raindrop landed on my forehead, running down my nose and dripping down to the ground. All at once, the heavens opened and the rain came down in sheets. The human couple near me began to swear and hurriedly put their clothes back on. I watched as they ran towards the house, following all the other humans who were making for shelter. The back door was left open, and even though the garden had been cleared the party continued inside. I could still hear the screaming.

I fled from the screams and the scent of blood.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some really exciting and important news - check the end notes!

The sun rose above the horizon and I shivered. Despite my resistance, the sun still gave me a creepy feeling - it was as though someone had walked over my grave. I hunched lower over my coffee and closed my eyes.

The tiny, all-night cafe I was sitting in was in the centre of London. It was a few miles from Everett’s mansion, but if I was seen hanging too close to the new leader I’d be under suspicion almost immediately. I spent my days wandering around the city, looking for my next meal when I could no longer control the bloodlust, or exploring the new human world. I’d grown up in a village at the height of the night-walker era - my entire life had been spent either cowering from the vampiric monsters or fucking them.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. My head was beginning to throb. For the first hour of each day I had a dreadful, persistent headache. It was almost like a concussion, but worse. Normal night-walkers weren’t supposed to feel pain like this. The only way they could feel pain was if it was externally inflicted. I obviously wasn’t a normal night-walker.

The waitress was approaching, bringing with her the meaty scent of blood and the bitter tang of coffee. I raised my head just as she stopped beside my table, holding my stained, quarter-full mug out in front of me. She filled it to the brim automatically.

“You okay?” she asked. The concern in her voice sounded foreign to me - no one cared about some deadbeat girl wandering around the city by herself.

I nodded, and forced a smile. “Had a bit of a wild night last night.”

It wasn’t totally a lie; I had at least observed a party even if I didn’t actually attend. Plus, after I’d left I’d sneaked into the zoo.

The waitress laughed and nodded. “I know how that feels. Next cup’s on the house.”

I thanked her and watched as she worked her way through the crowded labyrinth of tables. It still shocked me that humans were so trustworthy only a year after regaining the land. She hadn’t even questioned that I’d perhaps been more than human. Then again, if I’d been a normal night-walker I’d have died right in front of her.

The sun was beginning to shine through the window. It threw light across the table and I found myself instinctively backing away from it. My skull pounded, and I lowered my head to the cold surface. My coffee mug had left a warm circle and I pressed my cheek to it. Ever since I’d been changed, I’d craved heat. I was beginning to understand why my night-walkers had always been so possessive and touchy.

When I raised my head again, a group of guys had entered the cafe. There were five of them, all wearing the same dirty jeans and buttoned shirts. Leather belts were slung across their chests, filled with silver stakes. I knew the type; they were hunters, men who had spent the night killing and burning night-walkers. They’d stop in for a coffee, take up the space with their loud laughter and bloody anecdotes, and then they’d be on their way to a new assignment or to rest.

I had to leave. These men could practically smell a night-walker. They were all hand picked by Everett himself, and they considered themselves to be above everyone else. Their arrogance meant that they would have been a threat to me even if I hadn’t been a night-walker. The belief these hunters had that they were superior to every other living thing meant that they took what they wanted, be it money, drink, or women.

I downed my coffee and glanced over at the till. The hunters were standing there, baring their teeth in what was supposed to be a flirtatious grin (I think) at the teenage girl working the machine. The sympathetic waitress was standing a few tables over from mine, coffee jug still in hand. I motioned discreetly, looking over at the hunters warily as she made her way over.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Is there any way I could get my bill without going up to the till?” I asked. My voice was quiet, but she still heard the urgent tone.

Her gaze drifted over to the till and her eyes hardened. “It’s on the house, I told you.”

“All of it?” I asked, surprised.

I had more than enough money - it turned out Louis was a bit of a hoarder when it came to cash. After I’d changed, I’d gone back to the underground house and had searched for things I would need. Louis’ bankcard had been one of them. When I’d gone to check the balance, I’d found enough money to live comfortably until the end of time.

The underground house was gone now. Everett had had it set alight soon after claiming his ‘pets’.

“All of it,” the waitress confirmed. “Just go. I’ll distract them.”

She met my eyes and I realised she knew what I was. All along she’d known I was a night-walker. I wondered how. She patted the back of my hand, not flinching at the icy temperature of my skin. I watched in astonishment as she sauntered over to the hunters with a smile and engaged them all in a conversation too cheery for just after dawn.

I waited until the hunters were sufficiently distracted before slowly getting to my feet. My speed was something I still could not fully control, and more often than not I found myself gliding amongst crowds of humans. Now I had to be more careful than ever; if the hunters noticed anything suspicious they had the authority to put any building on lockdown until they'd thoroughly investigated. I wouldn't make it out alive if that happened.

The hunters were a lot more relaxed once the sun was up. The leader laughed along with the waitress, completely oblivious as I slipped out the door. He spoke about his team and how they were a sort of special forces. I paused in the doorway, holding the door open and fumbling with my shoe in a pathetic excuse to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"We've been recruited specially," the lead hunter was saying. "Everett believes the monsters are mutating now."

"Into what?" the waitress asked in an awed, hushed tone.

The hunter leaned forward melodramatically. "The monsters can walk in sunlight now."

I stood up, startled, and let go of the door. The door slammed shut, drawing all attention to me. I cringed as I hurriedly walked away, feeling the hunters' eyes focused on me. The cafe door opened behind me, but I had rounded the corner onto an empty street and had shimmied up a drainpipe before I could hear any pursuing footsteps.

Two of the hunters rounded the corner and looked around. They were searching for me. I stopped breathing, flattening myself against the rough bricks. The sun was shining on the back of my head, warming my skin. In the terror of almost being caught, my headache had reduced to a dull pressure on the back of my skull. The hunters passed down the street, muttering to each other in voices too low for me to hear even with my supernatural senses. I couldn’t move to follow them. They could be below me, ready to strike with their stakes, and I wouldn’t know until it was too late. If I moved and they weren’t below me, they’d know I was there.

Their footsteps faded down the street. I waited another ten minutes before twisting around to see if the hunters were still there. Thankfully, the street was empty. I dropped to ground and took a deep breath. Not breathing was becoming easier every time I stopped.

This area was dangerous now that I knew there were hunters nearby. I hunched my shoulders and made off in the opposite direction from the cafe, almost jogging. Humans were beginning to emerge from their homes and wander about with a level of activity unusual for first thing in the morning. Something was up.

I relaxed my walk as the crowds thickened and followed the masses of people to Trafalgar Square. The humans were gathered around the two giant screens that had been put up when Everett came into power. I sat down a few feet from a group of students still drunk from the night before; at this distance it looked like I was part of the group, but the students didn’t notice me.

The screens began to flicker into life. They would present the same image, just from two different angles. Everett had demanded the screens be put up after he had taken my night-walkers prisoner. His first proper public act had been to humiliate Louis; he’d whipped and raped the night-walker mercilessly.

That had been a year ago, if I remembered correctly. Exactly a year ago, actually. It would explain the sudden public announcement. There hadn’t been any announcements for months.

The crowd fell silent as the screen lit up. The screens showed an almost empty room. Everett was standing in front of the camera linked to the screen on the left; the screen on the right showed the same image from the side. At his feet was Niall, kneeling on the ground. If my heart had still been beating, it would have stopped the moment I saw him. Niall was in a bad shape, bound with silver, blindfolded and gagged, with burns, open wounds, and blood up and down his naked body. He trembled in place. Everett had his fingers wound through his hair, holding him there.

“Good morning,” Everett began, smiling widely.

A few sighs came from the girls sitting around me. Hunter Everett’s climb to the top had definitely been aided by his conventional good looks. He was young for a leader, with tanned, unmarked skin and thick black hair swept to the left. In the year since he’d come into power, old films had resurfaced; the first time I watched _Beauty and the Beast_ I’d mistaken Gaston for Everett almost immediately.

“It has been a year since the Tomlinson night-walkers were captured and we took back the country that is rightfully ours,” Everett continued. I just rolled my eyes. “This past year has been one of great success. We have almost eradicated the night-walker vermin from Britain!” A cheer went up around the Square. “To celebrate our achievement, I present to you one of the Tomlinson night-walkers: the lowest of the low, Niall.”

The humans around me began to boo and hiss. On the screen, Niall visibly shook as though an earthquake rattled only through him.

“As soon as the sun sets tonight, on the one year anniversary of our freedom, I will release this night-walker into the streets. Whoever finds him first is free to do whatever they want with him.” Everett smiled. “I would ask that any pieces of him that remain at dawn tomorrow morning be returned to my mansion. His destruction will be used against the other night-walkers in my possession.” Everett bowed his head and smiled again. “Have fun hunting, my friends!”

The screens went dark again. For a moment the Square was filled with silence, then angry voices came from the edge of the Square. The hunters I’d seen in the cafe were grouped together, chanting together. The leader was declaring his hatred for night-walkers, and his determination to find Niall straight after sunset.

“I’ll break every part of him. Everett can have his body” - the leader grinned widely - “but I’m going to mount his head on my wall.”

I slipped away from the crowd. It was decided now; I had to find Niall before anyone else did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the 1DFF Spring Awards rolled around again this year... and Night-Walkers has been nominated for two awards! It's been nominated for Best Slash Fanfiction and Best Character Development - 1D (for Louis). It would be great if you could all vote, you only need a google account, so if you've got a gmail then you're there!
> 
> The link to vote is here: https://t.co/lWtm9fImVm
> 
> Twitter - @nightwalkersff  
> Tumblr - nightwalkersff.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter Three

The van’s engine started with a low growl. I stepped back into the forest. No one would be able to see me this far from the house, but I felt an urge to be cautious just in case. Hunters swarmed around the mansion like ants protecting their queen.

It was a little before sunset. I’d been hanging around Everett’s mansion for a few hours now, just waiting for the van containing Niall to leave. The place had been full of hunters when I’d arrived, and now they’d multiplied. Hunters were beginning to wander around the forest; I’d have to leave soon with or without Niall.

The van was pulled flush against the back door of the mansion. I couldn’t tell when Niall had been moved from the building to the vehicle. Only the sudden roar of the engine alerted me to any changes taking place. I tensed, waiting as the van slowly pulled away from the mansion. The hunters began to head back to their own vans. They would follow the van containing Niall at a distance, and once he was released they’d take it upon themselves to recapture and kill him.

I had to get there first.

As the van made its way to the guarded gate, I slipped through the forest, leaping over the electrified fence. Becoming a night-walker had effectively attached springs to my feet; I was able to jump great heights from a standing position. It had come in useful for the fence more than once.

I ran round to the road, which the van was just pulling on to. The road to the city was lined with trees, and I used these to cover me as I ran alongside the van. Even when the vehicle moved faster, I kept pace; the speed of the van was nothing to me now.

When we reached the edge of London my cover disappeared. I was forced to run along the top of buildings lining the side of the road instead. Up here, the evening breeze blew back my hair and I was exposed to any hunters lurking nearby. Not that they’d be paying much attention to their surroundings; they would be too busy coming up with ways to prolong Niall’s torture.

By the time the procession of vans stopped, the sun was half-hidden by the horizon. The hunters got out of their vehicles and threw on more jackets. To them, it had gotten colder. I felt no change in temperature. From where I was crouched on top of a low building, concealed from any casual glances in this direction, I felt nothing but strength. I was still learning about the restrictions the sunlight had on my bodies, but there was a definite change between night and day. During the day I was still stronger and faster than any human, but at night I was an ethereal being compared to them.

The hunters spoke and laughed amongst themselves. They weren’t ready to release Niall yet - Everett had told them to let him go no sooner than sunset. Just before it became fully dark, all but three of the hunters climbed back into their cars and drove off. I watched them in confusion, until I realised they were all driving in different directions. They were setting up a perimeter. Niall would be trapped in the middle of the circle of hunters the moment he set foot on the street

.“Fuck,” I whispered. I was trapped too.

The three hunters in the middle of the street loaded their weapons and assumed their positions around the back of the van. I tensed from the roof of the building, standing up to get a better view. The hunters wouldn’t see me; they’d be too concerned with making sure Niall went the way they wanted him to.

One of the hunters glanced westwards, then pulled open the back door of the van. He stepped inside and pulled out a body, roughly shoving it to the ground. My hands flew to my mouth to stifle the terrified noises I knew I’d make. For the first time in over a year, I was seeing one of my night-walkers in the flesh. And Niall looked awful.

From the lethargic way he moved, I could tell he was badly injured. Dried blood covered his right hand, which he held up in a pathetic attempt to shield himself. His hand trembled under the harsh glare of the streetlights. When he raised his head, still half-covered by his hand, I saw the bruises on his face, frighteningly dark in comparison to his icy complexion. It still scared me that although our hearts didn’t beat, we could still bruise if hit with enough force. Niall’s face suggested he’d been beaten to near death.

I didn’t understand why he didn’t just heal himself at first. It was only as I stared in horror at his fragile body curled up under the artificial streetlights and the barrels of powerful rifles that I remembered what he’d once told me. It had been just after Harry had been crucified by Tom, that terrifying night where I’d been kidnapped for the second time:

_"Why don't you heal him?" I whispered to Niall._

_Niall looked a little surprised. "I can't," he whispered back. "The wounds were made with silver, therefore I can't heal them." He reached forward and patted Harry's leg. "Only thing that can kill us."_

Niall had been beaten by something made from silver. I’d never seen anything like it - stabbing a night-walker with silver was a lot more common than beating a night-walker. It was harsher to beat someone with silver, I felt; the precious metal would burn the skin it came into contact with as well as damaging everything inside. Everett was certainly thorough with his torture techniques.

The hunters were beginning to yell at Niall. My night-walker struggled to his feet, maintaining a pose made defensive by continuous abuse. One hunter shoved Niall back down to his knees, and laughed sharply. I squeezed my hands into small, powerful fists and dug my nails into my skin. They were tormenting him, and until they were away from the area I could do nothing about it. If I risked my own life in saving Niall now, we’d both die.

A different hunter dragged Niall to his feet again, releasing him with a shake of his hand that suggested repulsion. The hunter who had dragged Niall from the van - he also appeared to be in charge - began snapping orders at Niall. I barely heard them; I was too busy watching my night-walker for any clue as to which way he was going to run. As soon as Niall staggered towards a side street, slowly getting used to moving without restrictions again, I took off in the same direction, following him over the rooftops.

Niall began to move faster, using the speed he gained from giving up his humanity. I was faster than him, either because I was a newer night-walker or because he was injured. Up ahead, I could sense the hunters’ perimeter. If he ran too far, he’d be shot immediately and my chance would be lost.

I leaped from the rooftop, landing with a hard jolt on the ground below. Niall flinched at my grunt of pain, believing it to be a hunter’s grunt of exertion, and ran faster through the streets. I took after him, slowly closing the distance between us, but it wasn’t enough. He was slipping out of my grasp, the hunter’s net swiftly closing around him.

We emerged from the shadowy streets into an open square with the moonlight shining down uninterrupted. In the pearly light, my feet moved impossibly fast over the concrete beneath them and I was on Niall in seconds, my body colliding with his, both of us tumbling over and over until we came to a stop in the middle of the square, both of us out of breath and feeling pain in our abdomens.

I sat up in an attempt to get my breath back. Niall’s twitch was the first clue to his fight-or-flight decision. He was on his feet before I could stop him, resuming his sprint to the finishing line of hunters. In a desperate attempt to stop him, I lunged at his legs. He came crashing down and our bodies tangled together again. When I sat up this time, I made sure to sit on his hips and pin him down.

“Stop fucking running!” I whisper-yelled. The hunters may not have had the same superhuman hearing we did, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t hear my yells of frustration.

Niall blinked up at me in confusion. “What?” he murmured, his face contorting into a pained, confused expression.

I didn’t have time to explain. The hunters who had initially released Niall were catching up to us; I could hear their footsteps echoing down the streets. I took hold of Niall’s wrist and pulled him up to his feet. He’d been under so much pressure leading up to this moment that he gave in completely and allowed me to pull him down another street, away from both sets of hunters.

We stumbled through the streets. I was trying to find shelter, and Niall was trying to stay on his feet. The hunters had stopped pursuing us. As far as I could tell they’d lost us in the labyrinth. I slowed, coming to a stop in the middle of a deserted cobblestoned street. Lights flickered on in a second-floor window to my right. We needed to leave this part of town, but the hunters surrounded us.

“I know this place,” Niall said, out of breath.

I looked around again. He was right; he did know this place and so did I. The hunters were in for an unpleasant surprise. They’d trapped us in the part of town where we had a hiding place.

I started to run again, altering my original course to veer slightly to the right. It had been a year since I’d last been here, but the streets were beginning to take on the feeling of old familiarity. Niall ran with renewed strength behind me, tightly clutching his hand. I didn’t think he’d realised who I was, but his grip suggested he trusted me regardless.

We stopped directly in front of our hiding place. The abandoned building loomed out of the darkness, casting a spell on the entire street. Most of the houses around Tom’s mansion were deserted; the night-walker had definitely left his mark on the area. I released Niall’s hand and approached the once-regal wooden doors. A single kick aimed at the lock sent both rotting doors flying inwards, exposing the inside of the house. Trusting Niall was following, I made my way inside.

“We’ll have to find a room with no windows,” I said, glancing behind me at his shadow climbing over the debris from the raid. “If we want a light, we’ll have to make sure we can’t be seen from the outside.”

I remembered the dining room. It had windows, but it was also at the back of the house, looking out onto a field. We’d be safe there. The stairs creaked under my weight, but they held out. They were still decorated with the carpet I remembered from the party we’d attended, though it was covered in mysterious stains. The wooden banisters and decorations had been either destroyed in the initial raid, or rotted between then and now. I doubted the electricity still worked; if we wanted light we’d have to set fire to something.

I began to gather bits of wood as I made my way upstairs. The doors to the dining room were open, inviting us in. I hadn’t been in the house during the raid, I’d only stood at a distance and watched, but it seemed as though most of the household had been in here when the humans had attacked. The room bore the most damage I’d seen since I’d set foot in this shell, and the stains covering the walls and furniture were most definitely blood.

I slowly approached the centre of the room. The whole mansion felt wrong, as though I was constantly being watched by something in my peripheral vision, but it was our only option. I stopped and dropped the wood I was carrying.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a lighter?” I asked, turning to face Niall.

He stood in the doorway, looking around. His gaze slid to me, and he visibly swallowed before shaking his head. Was he  _scared_  of me?

I realised how I must have looked. The moonlight shone through the shattered glass in the windowpanes and through the decaying velvet curtains, illuminating me in a ghostly light. I must have looked ethereal, unearthly, unnatural. After only seeing humans for a year, my appearance must have seemed strange.

I turned back to the pile of wood at my feet and kicked it. His fear became more justified the more I thought about it - he was being hunted by humans out to kill him, and I’d swooped in and saved him at the last moment for no apparent reason, the last of a dying breed - but I still hated it. We’d been so close before everything went to hell.

“I’ll find something,” I muttered, beginning to search through the wreckage.

This building had once been regal and bursting at the seams. Now it was a hollow reminder of the past. I wandered through the room, searching for anything that would give me light. Niall stood just inside the door. I could feel his eyes on my back as I kicked apart piles of furniture. There was nothing that could give us a flame.

“Fuck it,” I sighed, walking over to the window. I rested my hand on the glass. “We’ll just have to use the moonlight.”

There was no movement in the field below. We’d thankfully lost the hunters. For now, we were safe.

The moonlight seemed to strengthen, brightening the room. I stepped away from the window, catching my palm on the jagged edge of the glass. Blood appeared in the open wound immediately, sliding smoothly down my palm. I raised my hand to my mouth, sucking off the blood before it fell to the ground. Night-walker blood tasted different to human blood; it was thinner, and tasted more metallic. The cut continued to bleed even when I pulled my hand away.

“Let me,” Niall said, crossing the debris littering the room.

He took my hand, pressing two fingers against the wound. My palm sealed itself back up, leaving a tingling sensation in my hand. Niall’s fingers, dabbed with my blood, automatically raised to his lips and he licked them clean with such vigour that I wondered when he’d last had anything to drink. His lips turned down into a frown, his hands reaching for my waist. With a strength I didn’t realise he had, he pushed me towards the window, his touch gentle but firm, until I was standing in a pool of moonlight.

“I recognise you,” he muttered, raising his hand to touch my cheek. “I  _know_  you.”

I nodded, speechless. I hadn’t ever imagined feeling this way, my stomach full of bats and my head spinning. After a year and a half of isolation, of constant hiding, of unbearable loneliness, Niall was here. He was alive, he was in front of me, he was  _touching_  me. I wasn’t alone anymore.

Niall bit his lip and ran his fingers through my hair. “You remind me of… No.” He released me and walked away, stopping on the other side of the room. I felt his absence burning through me. “She’s dead.”

“How do you know?” I asked. My voice trembled.

Niall sighed and shook his head. “Because I saw her lifeless body being carried outside for the animals to tear apart.” He laughed, a horrible, humorless sound. “She should have survived. We thought she would survive -  _I_  thought she would survive. But she wasn’t strong enough.” He kicked at a metal goblet lying on the ground. “Fuck Tom.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. A part of me didn’t want to tell him who I was; I wanted him to recognise me without help. “Maybe she was still alive when she was taken outside.”

“Then she’d be a night-walker, and would have burned when the sun came up.” Niall shrugged and looked up at me. “What were you before Everett fucked everything up? A slave? A Master?”

“Slave.” I started to walk towards him, but stopped halfway across the room. I couldn’t bring myself to comfort him.

“Master’s dead then, eh? Mine’s getting close to that. I don’t know what I’ll do once he’s gone - I’ll probably be killed before then though, so I won’t have to worry about it. Louis’ last to die. Everett’ll work his way up, and Harry’ll be next.”

I nodded, stepping over the pile of broken wood I’d intended for a fire. Niall rubbed at his eyes. He turned towards me, moonlight shining onto his face, reflecting off his tears. He sank to the ground, pulling his legs in tightly to his chest. I stopped a few feet from him.

“Why?” he asked, his voice no louder than a whisper. “Why did you save me?”

I wanted to tell him I loved him, but until he recognised me he wouldn’t believe me. Instead, I sat down beside him. He looked up at me.

“Why didn’t you just let me die?”

“I couldn’t,” I replied. “I just couldn’t.”

Niall buried his face in his arms. “We’re going to die as soon as the sun rises anyway. They’ll find us - they can walk about during the day.”

I opened my mouth to reply, to reveal that something was wrong with me, to tell him I could walk in the sunlight, but I didn’t have the chance. From several floors below came the creaking of the stairs. Niall and I looked at each other, our faces identical in our horror. When I spoke, my voice came out as a terrified whisper:

“They’re in the house.”


	4. Chapter Four

I clutched Niall’s hand tightly as more noise came from a lower floor. Voices were starting to flat up to us now; harsh laughter accompanying a muttered threat. If they were on the stairs, we were trapped - if we left the dining room they’d spot us immediately.

The creaking on the stairs became louder. The hunters knew they had us trapped; it was only a matter of time until they reached the dining room or we attempted to run. I stood up slowly, pulling Niall to his feet. We had to be ready for this fight.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are...”

If my blood had been running, it would have ran cold. I knew that rough, malicious voice. It belonged to the leader of the hunter pack I’d encountered in the café that morning. Somehow they’d managed to track us to the mansion and slip inside without drawing attention to themselves.

Niall squeezed my hand and drew me to the back of the room. We were offered no protection by the moonlight streaming through the shattered windows. The leader appeared at the top of the stairs. In the pale light, I could see him as clearly as I would in the middle of the day. He was the classically handsome lumberjack in worn clothes he often wore for hunting - there were patches of dried blood around the hem of his flannel shirt - and the weapon belt slung over his chest. The belt was untouchable as far as we were concerned: I counted nine stakes made from pure silver hanging from the leather straps.

Niall and I had no weapons except our teeth and both of us knew we wouldn’t get close enough to use them. We were outmatched and outnumbered; behind the leader, the other hunters emerged from the shadows, stakes in hand.

The leader removed two stakes from his belt. He smiled, and for a moment the moonlight glinting off his perfect white teeth made it look like he had fangs.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

Even with my enhanced reflexes, I still wasn’t sure what happened exactly. Niall’s hand took mine in a death grip and I was pulled backwards, away from the oncoming hunters. Glass smashed against my back and my side, strips of wood that had separated the panes snapping like twigs. I was free falling as Niall’s hand slipped from mine, tumbling through the air with the ground approaching too fast. Air rushed past me as I struggled to arrange my body. I had to get my hands down and catch myself otherwise I’d break something and become nothing more than a sitting duck. Night-walkers were not impervious to landings, especially from three storeys up.

I managed to land with a roll, saving my joints. Niall was sprawled out on the grass next to me, not even attempting to get up by himself. He’d gotten us out of the mansion, so obviously it was now up to me to get us away from the hunters.

Up above there was a shout. The leader was leaning out of the window we’d smashed our way through, yelling directions at the rest of the hunters. I stumbled to my feet, pulling Niall up with me. The leader pulled a crossbow from his back, loaded with a silver-tipped bolt. Niall was still on the ground when I started running, dragging him along behind me until he climbed to his feet. The  _shnick_  of the crossbow was audible to me as I pulled Niall into the forest at the edge of the garden; the bolt buried itself in a tree a few inches from Niall’s head.

Our speed and stamina was no match for the hunters’. We ran through the forest, keeping away from the main streets when we ran out of trees. By the time we stopped at the edge of the city, the sky was beginning to lighten. Niall leaned against the nearest building, a large bungalow with a neat, fenced-in garden.

“We should find somewhere to stay for the day,” I said, resting one hand on the picket fence.

I’d decided not to tell Niall about my sunlight-resistance. That could wait until after I’d told him who I was. Shelter was still important though; I wouldn’t be burned by the sun, but Niall would. We needed to find somewhere safe and empty.

Niall patted the house he was leaning against. “There’s no one in here. We can stay here for as long as we need.”

I inhaled. He was right - there was no human scent hanging around the building. Nobody had been here in a long time. Niall tried the door, forcing it off its hinges when it wouldn’t open the first time. He stepped aside to let me pass, then both of us went around the house boarding up all the windows and doors, blocking up any gaps the sunlight could slip through.

The house was well looked after and inside the building there was a very faint human scent. There were two bedrooms just off the hallway, both immaculate. I wondered why this house was so clean if no one lived here. It wasn’t until I spotted the brochures fanned out on the kitchen counter that I realised we were staying in a show home.

Once the humans had taken power from the night-walkers, the building industry had sprung into life. Most of the empty, rotting carcasses of houses had been reborn into homes, with the exception of some famous night-walker residencies, like Tom’s mansion. Those were to be turned into historical sites when the human race had fully recovered. On the outskirts of cities, new houses were constantly being built. This must be one of those houses.

Niall appeared at the doorway of his bedroom. “Aren’t you getting tired?” he asked. His eyes were closing even as he spoke. “You’re quite young, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just... just going now.”

I’d have to stay quiet in my room until I knew Niall had died for the day. It shouldn’t take too long - maybe a half hour at the most. He’d definitely be out by the time the sun had risen completely. I made my way into my bedroom, pausing as Niall grinned at me.

“Morning,” he said, disappearing into his dark room.

I rolled my eyes and closed my bedroom door behind me, closing myself into the darkness. As a human in this situation I would have been blind, but as a night-walker I could see enough to make my way towards the window. This bedroom had a window seat, a carved out bench beneath the window that had been padded with soft pink cushions, the same shade as a ballet dancer’s dress. I curled up on the bench, pulling up the blinds and removing the ripped up cardboard square Niall had shoved against the glass to keep out the sun.

There were three bedrooms in this house - two off the hallway and a third tucked behind the living room. My bedroom was decorated with pastel colours and floral prints. As the sun shone past me illuminated the room, it felt as though I was sitting in a fresh spring meadow at dawn. I’d been stuck within the confines of the city for too long - I yearned for my village, where the forest and the entirety of nature were only just a few feet away.

I stayed by the window until the sun began to warm my skin through the glass and birds fluttered around outside. The warmth wasn’t much - it was an energy source outside my body and therefore had no real effect on my internal temperature - but it felt nice no matter how temporary it was. I uncurled myself from my comfortable position and quietly slipped from the bedroom. Maybe there was a book or something in one of the other rooms. Did show homes have fully stocked bookshelves?

I wandered from room to room, looking for something to occupy me. I had all day and nothing to do. As I explored, I made sure to turn on only the electric lights. I didn’t want to forget to block up a window and have Niall find it when he woke.

Finding nothing, I dropped down onto the new fabric sofa and reached for the remote. Chances were that it would be only mind-numbing daytime TV shows on, but I could probably find re-runs of an old sitcom if I searched hard enough.

I almost didn’t hear it over the noise from the TV. The sound was gone instantly, but I paused anyway in case it came again. For a moment, I thought I’d imagined it, but just as I was about to dismiss the thought it came again. The sound came from behind me: the creaking of a door.

I was on my feet in seconds, teeth bared and ready to fight, but I froze at what I was presented with. Niall stood in the doorway, staring at me with the same shocked expression I must also have worn. He was definitely not dead, like he was supposed to be.

“Why aren’t you dead?” he asked, his voice faint.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied.

Niall slowly shook his head and backed out into the hallway. I followed him out, wanting answers. As far as I knew, he wasn’t like me. The only reason I could think of for his current state was that Everett had done something horrifying to him during his torture.

Niall stepped further away from me, accidentally moving into the pool of sunlight on the carpet outside my bedroom door. My window was still clear and was positioned opposite the door; the sunlight shone straight through into the hallway. He froze and winced in pain, but I was there immediately, pushing him out of the harmful rays. The movement left me standing in the sunlight, something I didn’t realise until Niall’s shocked expression turned to one of horror.

“It doesn’t hurt you.” His voice sounded terrified but strangely empty at the same time. “The sunlight doesn’t burn you. You’re not a night-walker, you’re not a human. What are you?”

I couldn’t answer him. Under his distrusting gaze, I stepped out of the sunlight unscathed and waited for him to say something. When nothing came from him, I sighed.

“What did Everett do to you?” I asked. “Why are you still awake?”

Niall didn’t answer my questions. Instead, his trembling voice asked, “Tess?”

I repeated my questions, keeping my gaze level and unflinching. There were more important things to discuss than my identity - something I wasn’t even sure about.

In response, Niall pulled up the sleeve of the thin shirt he was wearing. There, sealed into the red, irritated skin of his left bicep, was the object that prevented his death - a painfully tight silver band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. Chapter 5

I didn’t realise I was reaching for his arm until Niall stepped back. He still distrusted me - though at this point I couldn’t really blame him. The silver band on his bicep was about five inches wide and far too tight for his arm. It seemed to actually be embedded in his skin, both burning and cutting his flesh. The number two was engraved into the metal.

“Does it hurt?”

I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Of course it hurt. Niall huffed, sounding almost amused, and just looked at me.

“Surprisingly, yes,” he replied. “You didn’t answer my question though.”

“What question?” I asked, though I already knew.

Niall dropped his gaze. “Are you - her?”

“Who?”

He nodded slowly and laughed, but it was a horrible empty sound that scared me. “Avoiding the question. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Did you used to work for Tom?” I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter then. You just keep reminding me of someone I used to know. I loved her, actually. She’s dead though. Did I say that already?”

“Yeah, you did.” I bit my lip. “You’re wrong though.”

“What? I didn’t love her? How the hell would you know?” Niall walked past me, skirting around the pool of sunlight, and sat down on the sofa. “She was my everything. I had to share her and I didn’t even mind. Liam and Zayn have each other, Louis and Harry have each other - I had no one until she came along.” He laughed. “She hated it - everyone does at first.”

I stepped up to the sofa and sat down next to him. For a moment, I thought I was going to tell him, but something stopped me. Instead, I held my face in my hands. There was silence for a long moment. Neither of us dared even to breathe.

Niall laughed again, though this time it was genuine. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him tighter than ever before - a benefit to being indestructible.

“I’m not stupid, you know.” His voice in my ear was soft and frequently interrupted by quiet chuckles. “And I do love you, even though you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie,” I replied, too concerned with his accusation to continue my lie. “How did you know?”

“You’re still a terrible liar, darlin’. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you wouldn’t believe me because you were convinced I was dead.” I pressed my head against his shoulder. “It has been, like, a long time.”

“Too long,” he agreed. “I missed you.”

His hands slid down to my waist, easily lifting me onto his lap. I pressed myself against his chest like I used to. Being with Niall felt natural, more natural than breathing now. His hands, which had felt icy before, were now warm against my skin where they slid beneath my t-shirt.

“Niall,” I muttered, twisting out of his grip.

“What? I love you. I want to show you.” He grinned lazily and lifted his hands to my face. “Just let me show you.”

When he kissed me, it was an entirely new experience. He had been gentle when I was human, but now he didn’t have to hold back. His lips tasted a little metallic, like they had before, but now I could detect different, subtler tastes: mint, salt, a hint of human blood. I felt his hands move back to my waist, pulling at the waistband of my trousers.

“Niall,” I said again, pulling away. “Stop. Is this not going to hurt you?”

He shrugged. “You’re more important. Besides, I haven’t done this in months. Well, not like this.”

I shook my head. “What happened after Everett took you?”

“Now? You want to know that now?” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll make you a deal: I’ll tell you everything afterwards.”

“Deal,” I heard myself saying.

Niall’s lips were on my throat, a warm, damp sensation sucking on my marble skin. I fumbled with the hem of his shirt, sliding my hands over his bruised torso. I stopped, my palms on his stomach as I thought about how much this could hurt him. The fabric rubbed over the back of my hands, my skin feeling every molecule, every fibre of the material. Under my fingertips I could sense Niall’s weakened muscles just beneath his skin. The palm of my hand prickled with the tiny hairs that stretched down into the ratty jeans he was wearing. From his stiff movements, I knew he was in pain. He was hiding it remarkably well. In fact, as he removed all of our clothes in less than a second - he was no longer a blur to me now that I was a night-walker too - he showed no sign of pain. If I hadn’t been staring at the discolouration and scarring on hist chest, I’d never have known he was fresh out of captivity.

“What did he do to you?” I asked, suddenly enraged.

Niall smiled sadly and followed my gaze down to his chest. “I’ll tell you after. I don’t want to ruin this.”

I nodded slowly, taking another minute to look at the letters carved into his chest. He caught my wrists, raising one to his lips. It had been so long since I’d been this close, this intimate with another person that I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Niall, sensing my hesitation, took hold of my waist again and lowered me until I was lying along the length of the sofa. He knelt over me, lightly kissing along my jaw.

“You know, I’d almost forgotten how pretty you are,” he said, whispering it as though it was a secret.

His smile, so genuine and full of love, momentarily blinded me; when I could see him again, in all his glory, I was insatiable. It was like the thirst that flared up in the back of my throat every day, but this lust burned in the pit of my stomach, spreading my legs invitingly. I was drawn to Niall in a predatory fashion, but it wasn’t his blood I was after.

Niall slid one hand under my back, lifting my hips at just the right angle. When he slipped into me, after a moment’s pause, I gasped in awe. Nothing could have prepared me for the electrifying bliss that consumed my body. Niall’s hands left charged fingerprints that tingle on my skin long after he’d moved away. When he started to thrust, shallow and weak as though he was overcome by the same pleasure I was, he gently let his body rest on mine. I could feel his warm breath just over my shoulder where his head lay. He sounded exhausted already.

My hands roamed his body, tensing with the muscles in his back and thighs, overly cautious as to not scratch him and cause more pain than necessary. One of his hands tangled in my hair, holding me in place as he raised himself up to kiss me, his mouth strong against mine until I began to fight back; he immediately whimpered and gave in, letting his submissive side take over. It felt almost as though we were melting together, becoming one entity. I ran my hands over his face, through his hair, down his body, rediscovering his pale skin and all the new marks on it. My fingers lightly touched the smooth, pink letters on his chest.

Niall dropped down to kiss me again, trapping my hands beneath his chest. One arm reached up to stroke my hair, but as he did so the horrendous silver band brushed against my shoulder. In the midst of the pleasure I barely noticed. The pain accentuated the unbelievable climax I was building up to. Niall’s other hand slid down between my legs. He’d barely touched me before I was writhing in his arms, my mind clouded, barely registering his skin brushing over mine.

I came back to a room that smelt like sweat and sex, Niall’s face pressed into my throat. He was still thrusting, though the grunts interrupting the word he muttered sounded like he was in pain. It was another moment before I could work out what he was saying.

“Please may I cum, Mistress?” he repeated.

His voice was strained and high-pitched, needy and desperate. I curled my fingers in his hair, lifting his head so I could kiss him as he continued to whisper his plea against my lips.

“Yes,” I murmured, finding his throat. “Of course.”

With a pained cry, Niall’s hips pressed to mind and his whole body trembled. He buried his face into my hair, his hands squeezing my hips hard enough to break them if I’d been human. I could feel his cum inside me as he pulled out, still pressed against my sweat-slicked body. He wrapped his arms around my waist, rolling us over on the sofa until I was on top, cuddled against his chest.

“Are you sure that didn’t hurt?” I asked, still breathless. His bruises looked more pronounced on his flushed skin.

Niall chuckled. “It didn’t, I promise.” He raised his head to kiss me. “Thank you, Mistress.”

I smiled and curled myself against his chest. My cheek brushed over the deep purple scars standing out from his skin. He followed my gaze and cleared his throat.

“So how did you survive?” he asked, wrapping a protective hand around my chest. “Tom said you’d died during the change and he’d left you outside for the dogs. We presumed he was lying, but the sunlight would have burned you anyway - well, I guess not. How can you do that? How can you not burn?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I woke up and it was the middle of the day. I didn’t really stop to think, I just felt thirsty.”

Niall was nodding. “That’s what happens. It burns, right? Unbearably.”

I told him everything that had happened so far. When I mentioned the hunters in the cafe, he growled quietly. The human council interested him, and he kept interrupting me with gentle kisses.

“I think that’s it,” I said, after telling him about Everett’s message on the big screen. It shocked me to think that that had only been yesterday. “Your turn.”

“When we first got to Tom’s house, you and Louis were taken away and Zayn, Liam, Harry and I were locked in the cellar.” Niall spoke fast, wanting to get it all out as quickly as possible. “The night you were changed Tom came down to torture Harry. He was taken away, and no one saw him until the day of the raid. It was just Zayn, Liam and me in the cellar. A lot of the time we weren’t bothered with - Harry and Louis were the real playthings, after all - but every so often someone would be sent down to feed us or Tom would appear with some sick torture he wanted to try out. It was actually alright, compared to Everett.

“You were there the day of the raid, you saw what it was like. Humans just came storming in. Everyone in that house fought, but they were all killed. We thought we were going to be next, but instead we were clapped in chains again and hauled into the back of a van. Funny thing is, the humans were using silver. They knew it burned us. They’re not supposed to know, Tess - that’s our biggest secret. But they knew about the silver, and the sun, and fire. They knew everything.

“Harry and Louis were already in the van. I’ve never seen either of them so... hollow. It was like the life had been sucked out of them. Harry was curled up, covered in bruises and dried blood. He was silent the entire time. Louis was worse - he was broken. He wouldn’t look at us, wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t stop crying either. It was horrifying. He was supposed to protect us, but he was so absorbed in losing you that he didn’t really ever recover.

“We were taken to a mansion and were separated again. Everett came to speak to each of us. He said we were only there as a show of power and he wouldn’t hurt us. I guess he didn’t actually lie. There was something weird about him. I agreed with everything he said, but I can’t remember what any of it was. For days at a time, I was left alone. I don’t know how often he played with the others, but whenever I was taken from my room I wanted to die.

“Everett had this sort of communal room where he’d take us. There was only normally two of us at a time. I didn’t see Louis at all. Half the time I was in that torture chamber, I can’t remember what happened. What I can remember is pain. Everett didn’t ever say anything, he’d just sit and watch. He got off by watching us torture each other.

“The first time I was put with Zayn. He had this weird look in his eye, like he wasn’t really seeing me. I tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t listening. He tied me down and cut me all over with a shard of pure silver. His hands must have been badly burnt, but he didn’t seem to feel it. Everett must have had a warlock or something to brainwash him. I thought it was a one-off, some sick torture Everett had thought of.

“The next time I was taken there, Harry was waiting. He was under the exact same spell Zayn had been under. Every time I was taken from my room it was for the same thing, for all the times I remember at least. I was given enough time to recover since I couldn’t heal myself.

“I’d been there a few months when Everett came in with two guards. I must have blacked out or something - I can’t remember what happened while he was there. The next thing I can remember is him leaving and the  _agony_. They’d banded me like I was cattle. I got silver poisoning and was in excruciating pain for days. The band won’t come off. I’ve tried everything. And even if I was able to remove it, my arm is so damaged that I’d never recover.

“The scars came about two months ago. It was Liam that time; he sat on my hips with that weird, blank expression and carved into my chest with a silver knife. No, wait - I did see Louis. I’d almost forgotten. He was there that day, kneeling beside Everett, bound unbelievably tightly with leather and gagged. Everett kept muttering to him. Louis looked horrified at what Liam was doing, but he didn’t look hurt at all. As far as I know, Everett didn’t harm him.

“I was taken out of my room yesterday for that announcement. Everett said the hunters driving the van could do whatever they wanted with me until I was let go. I thought you were another hunter at first, that’s why I kept running. I was actually going to risk it and stop just to see if you would slow down enough for me to attack. I’m so thirsty. My throat is  _burning_.”

I knew how he felt. My own thirst had woken as he spoke and it was quickly becoming uncomfortable, like an unreachable itch. The eternal thirst was a night-walker feature I would happily get rid of.

My fingers traced over the words scarred into Niall’s chest again: DIRTY WHORE. Now that I looked closer and knew the culprit, I could recognise Liam’s handwriting - or, at least, a knife-wielded adaption of his handwriting. The words filled me with rage. Not only were they forced betrayal of a loved one, they were also a degrading mark that Niall was stuck with for the rest of eternity.

Niall shifted a little, holding me tighter to him. I could sense the thirst on his breath. There was no telling how long it had been since he’d last drank. He needed to drink soon, otherwise he’d slip into a permanent death regardless of the silver burnt into his flesh.

I got off the sofa, easily sliding out of his grip. He sat up immediately, reaching for me again. I stepped out of his reach and began to get dressed.

“What are you doing?” Niall asked, frowning at me.

“I’m going to get something for us to drink,” I replied, fastening my jeans. “We’re both thirsty and I’m the only one who can go out in the sunlight. Besides, you can’t catch anything in the shape you’re in. Anything you want in particular?”

Niall licked his lips. “A hunter?”

“And if I decide I don’t want to get myself killed?”

He laughed. “A-positive. That’s my favourite.” He watched me fondly as I was putting on my shoes. “You’re A-positive, you know. Or you were.”

“It’s any wonder you didn’t just drain me the moment you met me,” I muttered drily. “However did you stand the smell?”

“By fucking you instead.” Niall grinned at me. “Hurry back, Mistress.”

*

It was beginning to rain outside, tiny water droplets falling from the thin cloud layer above. The sun still shone down on me undisturbed, warming my skin. Humans milled about, travelling in small groups, mostly fours and fives. I needed to find a pair - Niall would need a full five litres and possibly more.

The post-coital euphoria was beginning to wear off and my shoulder began to throb. It burned deep under my skin, numbing my arm until I could barely feel anything other than the pain. If this what what a silver burn felt like, then it was any wonder Niall hadn’t collapsed yet.

I took the abandoned forest trail, running as fast as I could into the city centre. There would be people here, lurking on the outskirts and the empty side streets. Many humans didn’t dare leave their homes, even at noon, if there was so much as the hint of a cloud in the sky. They seemed to believe night-walkers could walk around as long as they weren’t in direct sunlight. The streets were just as deserted as I’d predicted and it was too easy to catch the scent of A-positive blood.

A-positive was a thick, floral scented blood type. I could smell it on top of all the other human scents. I found A-positive to be too sweet, but if Niall wanted some then I might as well get the same. I could smell two A-positive humans in the street up ahead. They were alone; easy prey.

The humans were sitting on the pavement, chatting. They looked similar enough to be siblings. Neither of them noticed me until I had my hands around the brother’s throat. His spine snapped under my fingers like a twig and before she could scream I had her on the ground, squeezing her jaw and throat. Her jaw splintered in my grip - I still couldn’t completely control my strength while I was thirsty and this close to my prey - and the vertebrae in her neck popped out of place, snapping loudly. It took thirty seconds to kill both of them and no other humans had noticed anything.

I swung both of the bodies over my shoulder. They weighed practically nothing, though the skin beneath them burned even more. I gritted my teeth and ran back to the forest path.

Niall was still on the sofa when I returned. I shut my bedroom door as I passed, just in case the light was the reason he hadn’t moved. He was on me before I’d even set down the bodies, taking the brother and sitting on the floor.

“ _Both_  of them are A-positive?” he asked. “You spoil me.”

“Slow down, you’ll spill blood on the carpet.”

We sat on the floor with our meals and drank in silence, our knees touching. Niall slurped loudly, but I didn’t have the heart to scold his bad table manners - I didn’t know when his last meal had been. I finished first, holding out the girl when Niall dropped the boy. He took her from me gratefully.

When he’d finished, he dropped the girl on top of her brother and leaned back on his hands. Already, he was looking healthier, the blood bringing colour to his skin, the bruises beginning to fade. I reached for him, watching as the scarred words rippled over his chest muscles. He hadn’t bothered to dress after I’d left. I couldn’t draw my eyes away from the scars.

“So what now?” I asked, sliding closer to him.

Niall shrugged. “Whatever we want. Do you think the TV works? Where’s the remote?”

With a burst of static, the television switched on by itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter - www.twitter.com/nightwalkersff
> 
> Tumblr - www.nightwalkersff.tumblr.com
> 
> Tell me what you think is going to happen next!


	6. Chapter 6

Niall gaped at me. “That’s... You did that, right? That can’t just happen by itself.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I replied, fixated on the fuzzy grey screen.

The television sat on a stocky wooden unit across the room from us. I hadn’t thought it had even been plugged in, but moments ago it had flickered into life. The remote was perched on top of it.

“Can’t we just turn it off again?” Niall got to his feet and began to amble over to the screen. “It’s starting to freak me out a little.”

Just as he reached it, the static snow on the TV began to clear. The picture was fuzzy, the sound a distorted screech, but two figures began to come into focus. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s just an automatic transmission,” I explained. “Everett made them mandatory for everyone, so I guess TVs must come on by themselves whenever one’s playing.”

“Well, the guy  _is_  a fucking narcissist.”

Niall lay down in front of me, resting his head on my legs. I ran my fingers absently through his hair, waiting for the transmission to play. On the screen, Everett sat on a golden throne, watching the camera nonchalantly. At his feet, curled up to protect himself, sat Harry.

If my heart had still been beating, it would have been pounding at the back of my throat. Harry looked so small and weak. His hair had chunks torn from it, and what was left of it was knotted around his shoulders. Set into the top of his right arm was a silver band identical to Niall’s. I couldn’t see a number, but I had no doubt that it was there somewhere. A long, ragged scar stretched across his chest, the shiny rose-colour of newly grown scar tissue.

“Jesus,” Niall whispered, clutching my leg.

His touch distracted me from the screen. Niall had always depended on someone for protection and comfort, and that someone had always been Louis. Now that I was here and Louis wasn’t, did that mean Niall was relying on me to protect him? I didn’t know if I was prepared to do that, having spent months on my own. Even his touch now, so natural to him, felt foreign to me. There was nothing remotely comforting about the idea of becoming a protector.

Everett opened his mouth to speak, and the screeching of the static immediately stopped; nothing more than a ploy to get attention. Niall held his breath.

“Some of you may already know this, but Niall, the night-walker released last night, managed to escape the grip of the hunters. What began as a game has turned into a frustrating chase. We believe he had help from a rogue night-walker, though this rogue is something new. We also believe that both the rogue and Niall are watching this very transmission.” Everett levelled his gaze at the camera, staring straight into my soul. “Call me old-fashioned, but I do love a good bit of bait.” He gripped Harry’s hair, pulling his head upwards. “Harry here is going to be left outside, chained to a pole in the town centre, starting from sunset tonight. He will burn when the sun rises. I invite everyone to play with him before he becomes a pile of ash. See you there.”

The television switched off. Niall’s grip had increased on my leg, and if I’d been human the bone would have splintered under his fingers. I prised his hand from me, but he caught my wrist instead.

“We need to save him,” he pleaded, looking at me with wide, blue eyes.

“Niall, we can’t. It’s a trap, Everett said as much. There’ll be hunters all around him, not to mention all the humans there to watch him die, plus it wouldn’t surprise me if Everett himself showed up.”

“Then we’ll kill him too.”

“ _No_ , Niall. We’d die long before we reached him.”

I couldn’t deal with having Harry’s life in my hands. We had no chance of rescuing him without getting ourselves killed, but I didn’t want to abandon him either. It seemed too much of a choice to be given to me.

Niall got up from the floor, glaring at me. “Fine. I’ll do this by myself.”

“Niall-” I was on my feet, reaching out to him, but his bedroom door was already slamming shut in my face.

The house suddenly felt very empty. My knees trembled and gave out. I was sobbing by the time I’d hit the carpet, curling up into a ball with my forehead pressed into the carpet. It wasn’t fair. How did anyone expect me to make an impossible decision? Attempt to save Harry, and lose both our lives, or stay here and live, but lose Niall’s trust? The past few days had been more than a whirlwind, but this was the tornado ripping my feet from the ground.

An unfamiliar scent wafted in from underneath the front door. I sat up, my face red, my cheeks swollen. Voices came from outside; one professionally making small talk, another two agreeing regardless of the topic. The door swung open, and in the frame stood a woman in a black skirt and suit jacket, clipping into the hallway on her heels. Behind her traipsed a young couple, weary from the day’s viewings.

Of course. This was a show home. They were the estate agent and buyers. Just our luck.

It wasn’t until the agent had closed the door behind the couple that they spotted me, kneeling in the pool of sunlight on the hall carpet. The agent stopped mid-sentence and pulled out her phone.

“You are trespassing, and if you don’t leave immediately, I’ll phone the police and have you forcibly removed from the premises,” she threatened.

I heard the beep of her phone as she keyed in the number, but all I could do was laugh. She stepped backwards, feeling that niggle at the back of her mind, that primitive warning of a potential predator. I got to my feet, no longer trembling, and flashed her a smile. My fangs were on show. She screamed, and scrambled for the door.

***

Niall’s bedroom door opened a half hour after sunset. I’d been waiting for the sound, knowing he was going to try and leave anyway. The hall floor creaked beneath his weight as he paused in the doorway to take in the bloodstained carpet.

“What did you do?” he asked, stepping into the living room.

“They came in to see the house.” My voice sounded hollow even to me. I hadn’t felt anything other than the snapping of bone and the warmth of their blood on my pals since I’d killed them. “She was going to phone the police - we’d have been found out and killed.”

“So your solution was to rip them to shreds instead?”

I looked up from the severed head I’d been maintaining eye contact with. “What should I have done instead, Niall? Let them go and risked our lives with the hunters?”

He was furious, I could see it in his posture. I was avoiding his gaze. He sighed, and turned back into the hallway. The heavy scent of blood made my stomach turn, particularly when the front door opened, sending in a gust of wind that disturbed the air.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer. There was no need. We both knew about his suicide mission.

He left the door open in his wake. I got up from the living room floor and turned on the television, feeling the carpet squelch disgustingly under my feet. It wouldn’t take him long to get there.

As I’d thought, the main focus of every TV channel tonight was the town centre. A silver stake had been drilled into the concrete, and Harry was chained to it. He was currently being whipped by a silver-tipped whip. I turned the television off, but I could still hear his faint cries from outside.

I squeezed my eyes shut. It was too risky, I knew, but I couldn’t sit here and do nothing. This was a third choice I hadn’t taken into account: do nothing and watch both Harry and Niall die.

I was out of options. There was only one thing I could do.

The streets were empty as I flew through them. Everyone was in the town centre. A spotlight had been built on surrounding rooftops, aimed at the stake. Harry was standing with his back bent painfully, his arms twisted back and up, secured with rope to the stake. His head had been pushed down, and more rope was tying him to the stake by his neck. There was no need for chains now; Harry was too weak.

His skin was red and blistered. It was almost as though he was standing in the sun. I knew the idea was ridiculous, it was after sunset now and he’d probably have already been burnt completely if he’d been in direct sunlight, as chilling as the thought was. Something was wrong, something wasn’t right about this situation. It was obviously a trap, but how?

Everett sat in front of the stake in a stone throne. He was unguarded and exposed, almost as though he had no fear of attack. The sinking feeling in my stomach grew. I stepped into the closest spotlight and felt my skin tingle. On the other side of the crowd, I spotted Niall try and approach the stake, but the moment he reached the closest spotlight he backed off as if burnt.

Everett didn’t need protection from us because he believed we couldn’t get to him. The spotlights all around were UV lights. They would burn us like the sun, though slower. It was a very clever trap, a double-edged sword: out of Niall, Harry and I, I was the only one who could stand in the lights without burning. If I attempted to rescue Harry, he would know what I was. After all, why would a human bother to help a night-walker?

I walked steadily in and out of the spotlights to where Niall was hiding in the dark. He glared at me and stepped away when I stopped next to him.

“Tearing up humans getting too boring for you?” he hissed.

I shot him a look. “I decided I’d rather not see your suicide mission broadcast on live TV, actually.”

“So your solution is to join me?”

“No. My solution is to get all of us out of here. All three of us.”

“Right. Tell me you came with a plan.”

“I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Niall sat down, patting the concrete beside him. All around us, humans had taken seats to watch the show. We were beginning to stand out for being the only people still on our feet.

“I can’t go past the spotlights,” Niall said, more thinking aloud than explaining things to me. He knew I’d already worked all of this out. “If you go past, Everett’ll kill you. We can’t get to Everett  _or_  Harry.” He looked up at the nearest spotlight. “How do you think they’re powered?”

I followed his gaze. The spotlight was perched on the corner of a gutted department store. Even in the darkness, my eyes could pick up the movement of hunters on the top floor, the faint glow of a cigarette, and the thin black cable running from the base of the light in through an open window to the top floor.

“It’s plugged in,” I muttered.

“All we have to do is unplug it,” Niall nodded. “But there’s three... We could only manage two.”

“Two’s all we need.” I pointed discreetly at the second light. It was the closest light to Harry. “I could turn off that one, jump out the window and grab Harry, then run. You’d just have to worry about getting out of the building.”

“I don’t like that,” he murmured. “Too risky - what if you were caught?”

I elbowed him playfully. “So now you care about me?”

He twisted and kissed my cheek. “I’ve  _always_  cared about you. Shall we go?”

“We shall go.”

Before I could stand, Niall grasped my wrists gently and kissed me roughly, his fangs clashing with mine. It was possessive, sent shivers down my spine, and was completely unlike him. He withdrew slightly, then kissed me again, though softer this time.

“If we survive this,” he whispered, his lips still on mine, “I totally get to tie you to the bed next time.”

I laughed quietly and got up, walking away from him. I was still laughing as I reached the second spotlight. It was on top of what used to be a ridiculously large toy shop. The front door was held open by a furry toy in various shades of pink. It was robotic and old; I could smell the rust from the batteries from a foot away, but when I walked past, its eyes lit up and its sharp little beak opened to emit a creepy, high-pitched screech of a laugh.

I walked a little fasted, glancing behind me to make sure the demonic toy wasn’t somehow following me. The toy shop was a setting straight from my nightmares. Beneath my feet the rotten laminate creaked, and the building’s interior was filled with an intense black that I could barely see through. I wondered how the humans had managed to navigate the shop floor. Torchlight would barely dent the darkness in here. Boxes filled with old toys had fallen from shelves and lay scattered across the floor, creating a treacherous obstacle course to the stairs. One wrong move down here could result in a noise audible to the hunters - or even worse, an avalanche of boxes.

A unit across from the door to the stairs held a giant teddy bear. It was larger than I was, and it had been sitting on its display unit for a long, long time. The fur that had once been fluffy and brown now had a greenish tinge and was beginning to moult. Mould was growing between the bear’s beady black eyes and the giant red bow around its neck hung miserably, the soft velvet beginning to turn to dust. Something about the bear held my attention in a gruesome manner; something was not right about it, other than its depressing state.

I walked quickly past it and stepped onto the first of the stairs. The staircase wound all the way up the side of the building, made completely from metal. When my foot touched the step, the noise reverberated all the way up to the top floor. I cringed away, backing onto the shop floor again, as the steps clanged with more footsteps, this time heading my way and belonging to a hunter.

There were no hiding places around the stairs that would conceal me completely, but I could rely on the hunter’s lack of sight. As the steps came closer, I positioned myself off to the side, ready to pounce. There was no torchlight to accompany the hunter. He’d come down by himself to investigate what they probably thought was an object falling from the shelf.

He stopped in front of me, squinting futilely in the darkness. I crept up behind him and reached for his head, twisting his neck up and to the side. The resulting crack sounded scarily loud to me, and I hesitated to see if the other hunters had heard it. When nothing came from above, I relaxed and lowered the body to the ground.

Now as I climbed the stairs, the hunters would think I was one of them. I would have a split second where I could use the element of surprise to my advantage, slightly more if there were no lights upstairs either. From outside, the buildings had all been dark to conceal the hunters’ presence, and the recently deceased hunter lying on the shop floor hadn’t carried a light with him. I had to hope that meant they were waiting in darkness.

I’d already figured out what they were waiting for: they were the back-up troops for when Niall and I showed up ready to fight to the death. Whether they had intended to capture or kill us I had no idea. I wasn’t willing to find out either.

The square outside was silent. There were no windows in the stairwell, so I could only wonder what had happened. Were they giving Harry a break, or had he just sustained so much pain he had passed out? Could night-walkers do that? We had to hurry.

As I’d hoped, the top floor was dark. There were three hunters gathered in the room. One of them was smoking, and I could see the end of his cigarette glowing amber in the darkness. I didn’t need the light to work out their positions and distance from me; I could feel the hairs on the back of their necks rise as I entered. My surprise advantage had been taken away by basic human instinct, but that basic human instinct had given me a completely new advantage.

The three men were deer in the headlights; sitting ducks. They stared in my general direction with wide eyes that reflected the new moonlight. The cloud layer up above cleared enough so that the rising moon was revealed, filling the room with an ethereal light. It was bright enough for them to see my figure in the doorway, and more than bright enough for me to see the entire layout of the room. They’d left their weapons in a pile a few feet from them. Before any of them could reach their silver stakes, they all lay dead on the floor.

I cracked my knuckles and stepped over the bodies, heading for a pair of sockets nearest to the corner of the roof where the spotlight was. It was underneath a window, through which a long, grey cable stretched. The plug on the end of the cable was plugged into the closest socket. I unplugged it, and watched as one third of the lights turned off.

My gaze was focused on Niall’s building now. He had to turn the spotlight off now and get out of there alive if this was going to work. As I watched, a figure appeared in the window. It gave me a thumbs up and bent over. I rolled my eyes as the second spotlight died.

It was enough. From the window I stood at, I could clearly see the stake and Harry’s limp body. Night-walkers  _could_  pass out from extreme pain, apparently. I wished someone had told me that before.

The square was beginning to clear, the humans backing away in confusion. I backed up a few feet, took a deep, unnecessary breath, and ran at the window, leaping into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @nightwalkersff
> 
> nightwalkersff.tumblr.com
> 
> Tell me what you guys want to see next!


	7. Chapter 7

I was falling, the cold night air rushing past me. Far below, I could hear the humans gasping in horror. Everett was on his feet, staring up at the spotlights in what I hoped was confusion, and I couldn't help but grin. Finally, I was getting one step ahead of him. I had the upper hand now.

I hit the ground running, speeding past the stone throne without so much as a glance. I didn't need to be bewitched by Everett's apparent charm the same way the humans were. The stake set into the square glittered in the growing moonlight as I approached it.

Harry was out cold. The ropes securing him to the stake all but disintegrated when I ripped them away, and without their support he collapsed. I threw his limp body over my shoulder, trying not to think about how oddly light he felt and how it couldn't just be because I was stronger now. I turned to leave, and found my path blocked.

Everett stood a few paces from me, his hands held up defensively. My gaze flickered to the skyline and the hunters' silhouettes against it. This was a show, an act; Everett could easily have them shoot me dead. I paused, searching for another exit.

"He's a criminal," Everett said. His voice was amplified around the square with a tinny whine that made me wince. "They're all criminals. You shouldn't be helping them."

I shifted my weight from my left foot to my right. The whole square was surrounded, if not by hunters then by spectators.

"Leave him and I'll show you mercy," Everett continued. "If not, all of you will be executed. Think about it seriously for a moment. Are they really worth dying for?"

The answer was already ringing in my mind like a warning bell. I looked back to Everett. He was a lot bigger than on the television screens, his torso bulky with muscle. I had to tilt my head back to see his face; I'd never been this close before. His presence was overwhelming, a flood of conflicting emotions. Just before the night's breeze changed direction, I picked up the whiff of tanning lotion from his skin.

"Would you really die for them?" he asked again. "After they left you? I expected better from you, Tess."

My name on his lips snapped me out of the trance I'd been falling into. He'd known who I was all along. I took two steps backwards, then bared my fangs and snarled.

"I see," Everett frowned. "It's going to be like that, is it?"

He reached for my wrist, taking hold of me with a hand stronger than I'd expected. There was a moment's pause, in which I stood staring in horror at our touching flesh, before I broke away from him and sprinted towards the edge of the crowd, a pale blur streaking  across the square, Harry thumping agaisnt my back like a ragdoll.

The third and final UV spotlight, which I was running towards, switched off seemingly by itself. I picked up Niall's scent heading towards the building and grinned. Now all that was illuminating the square was the moonlight, which was easy enough to get rid of. I focused my energy on the glowing sphere in the sky and watched the light completely drain from the square.

When I'd first woken up at the very edge of Tom's property, left there to be torn apart by wild animals, it had been the middle of the day and I hadn't been burned by the sun. All my knowledge of night-walkers came from Louis, and so I believed that being resistant to sunlight was my special ability. I was a little disappointed at first - it wasn't quite as cool as being able to heal wounds like Niall, or Harry's telepathy - but as far as magical abilities went, it had its uses.

I hadn't discovered exactly what I could do until I had been immortal for about a year. One dark, cold night I'd had a run in with a gang of amateur hunters. They ha cornered me, caught me by surprise, and had thrown some sort of burning dust into my eyes. My vision had been reduced to what it had been before I'd changed - weak, human, and utterly useless in the dark.

We were in an isolated area, and the hunters switched off all the lights. I stumbled around, blind, trying to be as quiet as I could. They tormented me with night-vision goggles and silver-tipped spears. I found myself wishing for even the tiniest sliver of moonlight.

It was as though the moon had heard me and obeyed my command - which, as I'd figured out, is exactly what happened. The moon shone brighter, emerging dramatically from behind the dark clouds. My vision was still only as effective as a human's, but now I could see and the hunters, with thei light-sensitive equipment, could not. I took my chance and escaped while they stumbled around, cursing their technology.

My original theory, once I was in a relatively safe hiding place, was that it was a freak incident, a complete coincidence. After experimenting a bit, I ruled that out, and now my revised theory was that because I had been created by two different night-walkers, I had two abilities. I would be lying if I said this theory didn't make me feel unique, even amongst the last of a near-extinct species.

The square had descended into almost total darkness and the humans were stumbling around in a panic. I raced past them, dodging flailing arms and distressed fists. All the while, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Everett traced my exact path out of the square with ease.

After a few streets, when I was sure I wasn't being followed, I slowed to try and pick up Niall's scent. He had left before I had; I'd crossed a fresh trail leading away from the humans just around the square's perimeter. I walked in the direction of our house until I caught a strong whiff of him wrapped around a lamp post. The scent screamed safety and I understood instinctively. Niall had left his scent here on purpose, a flag to tell me that he was already at the show home we considered our safe place.

"Don't worry," I murmured, patting the back of Harry's knees. "Almost home."

The house was dark when I reached it. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, assaulted by the smell of old blood. In my rush to ensure my night-walkers' safety, I had forgotten about the massacred humans. The blood had dried into the carpet by now and it crunched under the soles of my shoes.

I opened my mouth to speak, then hesitated. The house was so still, a literal graveyeard, that I felt to speak aloud would be to disrespect the dead. His name came out as a trembling whisper: "Niall?"

From deep within the house, a door opened. A cold breeze wound around my ankles. Niall emerged from the kitchen, striding towards me, bloodstained arms held out welcomingly. He stank of human blood so much that I could taste it when I pressed my cheek to his shoulder.

"What were you doing?" I asked.

"Getting rid of your mess." His tone was playful, no longer furious. "There's a cellar with a load of freezers in it. I put the bodies in there - Harry'll be hungry when he wakes." Niall drew back, stepping away from me. "Better go lie him down. We're going to get the blood out of this carpet before the sun comes up."

I placed Harry on the bed in Niall's room, tucking the thin sheets around him. The windows were still covered and no amount of sunlight could leak in. Even in the darkness, I could see Harry's normally pale skin begin to glow from the burns.

Back out in the hallway, I found Niall on his hands and knees. He held a steel brush which he used to take the blood from the carpet. I knelt down beside him. His progress was slow, stunted by the silver band on his arm and the utter exhaustion that radiated out from him. I reminded myself that he hadn't rested in days, maybe even weeks or months, and that I shouldn't snap at him, but there was an awful lot of blood in the carpet. At this rate, we'd be cleaning for an eternity.

My fingers closed around the brush handle, nudging his hand out the way. "Why don't I do this?" I suggested gently. "You get whatever we need next."

His gaze met mine and he nodded. As he moved through to the kitchen, shuffling his feet in a very human-like display, I got to work with the brush. With the strength and speed Niall no longer seemed to possess, I moved in organised rows across the carpet. The steel brush's horrible scratching sound became a high-pitched whine at this speed. By the time Niall had stepped out from the kitchen with a bucket, I had brushed the surface layer of blood from the hallway. The stink of diluted bleach rose from the bucket.

"You do the living room," Niall said, pulling a dripping white cloth from the liquid. "I'll get the rest of it out."

I followed his orders, getting to work on the living room. In my bloodlust earlier, I had attacked in the hallway, where the blood was splattered and widespread, but the bodies had bled out in the living room and so the stains on the cream carpet, though relatively contained, were deep and practically black. My knees and elbows began to ache.

I finished my room before Niall had finished his and went through to help him. He waved me away when I tried to take the cloth from him. There was another in the kitchen, sitting on the draining board. Silently, I knelt beside him and we scrubbed together. By the time we'd finished, the smell of blood and bleach was seared into my mind and my fingers were stained a light crimson. The individual scent of each human had vanished though, along with the majority of my guilt. Somehow I'd convinced myself that what I'd done had been justified; we would have been killed had I not acted upon my instincts.

Niall and I sat facing each other on the floor. He looked exhausted, both mentally and physically. From outside, the sun's rays made my skin tingle. It was the very early morning, and Niall should have already died for the day.

"We should check on Harry," he suggested, using the sofa to pull himself up.

I rested my hands on his back, afraid he would collapse from exhaustion like Harry and ready to catch him if he did, but all he did was wobble. One arm slid around my waist as he pulled me into his side, pressing a clumsy kiss to the top of my head. He pushed open the door and stepped into the dark bedroom.

My eyes quickly adjusted. Harry's prone form still lay tucked beneath the sheets, but he had turned his head to watch us enter, green eyes glowing in the dark. He was tense, as though to confront potential enemies, but once our scent had wafted over to him, he relaxed.

"How do you feel?" Niall asked, slowly approaching the bed.

"Sore," Harry replied. His voice was thin and weak, either from screaming or disuse. "It's too painful to move."

"I can maybe help with that."

Niall placed a hand on Harry's back, between his shoulder blades. While Harry didn't visibly flinch, it was obvious he didn't want to be touched. He shrank back against into the mattress, hiding his face against the pillows. Niall's eyes closed and in the darkness I could actually see his soft influence as a faint silver glow where their flesh met. As Niall's glow spread over Harry's skin, Harry shuddered. Already his skin was paler, burns and open wounds healing as I watched.

Niall sighed as he finished, physically drained. He dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed. Harry shook his hand off, inching away from him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nial asked. "I know you had it the worst."

"No," Harry mumbled into the sheets.

Niall grimaced and held out his hand. I helped him up.

"Sun's coming up," Niall told him. "Try and get some rest while you can. We'll hunt tomorrow."

Harry didn't reply. Niall shrugged and leaned on me as we left the room, closing the door behind us. I helped him into the bedroom next door.

"You need to rest," I said, as he sat on the bed and kicked off his shoes.

"I know, I know." He lay down. "I can't die though."

"Then sleep."

"Been a long time since I've done that," he murmured.

Niall closed his eyes and lay still. Unsure of whether he was actually sleeping or not, I made sure the window was boarded up again and left. I feared that if I stayed in Niall's room I would wake him, but I also needed to rest.

The third bedroom, on the other side of the living room, smelt slightly of bleach and faced the west. I closed the curtains, hoping the sun wouldn't shine through the thin material until at least mid-afternoon, and curled under the duvet in the middle of the double bed.

It took me a long time to fall asleep. Whenever I was close to slipping off, my wrists would tingle. Everett's grip was seemingly imprinted into my skin and my mind fought with the uneasy feeling I had about him. It wasn't until my body was finally shutting down, despite the piercing birdsong from outside, that I figured out what was wrong.

Everett's skin had been the same temperature as mine.


	8. Chapter 8

I rolled onto my back, my eyes still closed. Even though I was no longer human, I still woke with the heavy, eternally tired feeling that meant I hadn’t had enough sleep. I’d long ago accepted the fact that I would never be fully rested - the only way to completely restore my energy would be to die during the day, and that seemed impossible.

I kicked the duvet off the bed, turning onto my side. Through half-closed eyes, I saw the mid-afternoon sun filtering through the thin curtains, creating a light square over my legs. My skin tingled where the UV rays touched it and I ran my hand down my bare thigh, feeling the warm light on the back of my hand. It was one of the best sensations in the world as far as I was concerned, and it seemed a shame to me that Niall could never experience it.

My mind was still fuzzy with sleep, and I couldn’t remember what I had to do today. There’d been something important I’d had to remember, something that had come to be on the brink of unconsciousness last night, and as I tried to grasp it now it slipped further away. I covered my face with my forearm and concentrated.

Yes - there it was. I had to hunt today for Harry.

The thought of tracking down humans during their safe hours made my body tense with anticipation. I planned what I’d do; perhaps sneak up on a family of four in the park, drag them into the bushes one by one and rip into their soft flesh…

I was sitting upright before I knew what was happening, one hand covering my mouth. The bile in my throat threatened to continue its journey, but instead sank back down into my stomach, leaving behind a burning unlike the constant thirst I felt. I played through the scenario again in my head to determine what had caused it. As soon as I reached the image of a shaded glen and my fingers tearing apart skin and bone, I was rushing to the bathroom and kneeling over the toilet.

I sat back on my heels and pawed at the lever until clean water rushed from the cistern. There was a trace of vomit still lingering at the corners of my mouth. When I wiped my lips, my fingertips came away red. I washed my hands, scrubbing them until they were red and tender, then discovered my hair had fallen in the way. Cursing the smell, I played with the shower controls and stepped past the white plastic curtain.

I’d been under the scalding water for barely a minute before I felt a draught from the door. Soft hands touched my waist, colder than a human’s, and I pressed myself back against Niall, pulling my hair over my shoulders in case I accidentally wiped vomit on him. He kissed the back of my neck and ran his hands up my body, cupping my breasts. I moved to push him away, and he laughed.

“What?” he asked teasingly. “You don’t want me to touch you like this? We’re safe for just now, I’m sure that allows us a little fun.”

“I don’t feel safe,” I muttered, rinsing my hair. The vomit splashed to the drain, a vanishing pink whirlpool.

“I don’t think you’ve ever felt safe though.” He squeezed my flesh gently, his thumbs brushing lightly over my nipples. “Have you ever had sex in a shower? It’s a challenge.”

“Even more reason not to.”

Niall laughed against my skin. He pinched my nipples expertly, rolling them between his fingers the way he knew I liked it, and I felt his teeth sink into my shoulder. I gasped, reaching back with the intention of pushing him away. Instead, I drew him closer to me, until we were standing flush against one another. He released my breasts and took hold of my wrists, manipulating my palms until they were pressed against the wall.

“I still get to tie you to the bed later,” he whispered, pulling my hips backward. The water from the shower was hot enough to sting the bite marks he’d left in my skin, and it ran down to pool in my small of my back. “This will do for now, though.”

I took my hands away from the tiled wall - I’d left handprints in the condensation - and turned to push him away. He stepped backwards dutifully, standing just outside the water’s grasp. I still felt queasy, my stomach threatening to give up the little it had again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching for my hands.

I shook my head. “I threw up earlier.”

“Night-walkers don’t do that.”

His response was immediate, revealing the truths he’d been conditioned to believe over decades. I laughed hoarsely.

“Night-walkers don’t go out in the sun either,” I reminded him. “I don’t think I’m anything like you, Niall. I thought about hunting, about killing a human, and-”

A sharp pain ripped through my stomach and my knees gave out. Niall caught me as I fell, both of us skidding on the wet porcelain of the bath. I tore away from him, retching over the side of the tub. Nothing came out, but my throat still burned. I fell limp, barely aware of Niall’s arms around me.

He carried me through the house, both of us still naked and wet, and laid me gently on his bed. He’d left the duvet abandoned on the floor, but now he wrapped it around me as a makeshift towel. It was the one thing a show home did not have that might have been useful, along with soap. I sat up and leaned against him.

“I don’t think you should hunt today,” Niall said, squeezing the water from my hair. “Not if you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” I protested. “It’s just-”

“You can’t stop puking whenever you think about killing someone.” I closed my eyes at his words, clamping my lips together in case there was anything left in my stomach. “We’ll be fine; we have those bodies down in the cellar. Harry can just have one of those, and I’m fine for now. You’ll need more after that episode.”

“Wasn’t an episode,” I muttered. My fingers found the edge of the duvet and I pulled it tighter around me. “And I don’t really want to go down there.”

“Have to be difficult, don’t you?”

Niall left the room, leaving the door swinging open in his wake. I stayed where I was, waiting patiently for his return. My stomach twisted in my abdomen, but it was from hunger rather than disgust. I thought about Niall opening one of the chest freezers in the cellar and had to turn my thoughts to something else.

Harry. He was still in the room next door. Cautiously, I got to my feet and made my way through to his room. I wobbled a little, and anything faster than a casual walk made me queasy again. If someone else were to come to the door today, I didn’t think I’d be able to do anything other than watch them summon the hunters.

Harry’s room was completely dark. It took seconds for my eyes to adjust from the electrical lights that Niall had taken to leaving on all over the house, but even before that I was aware Harry was watching me. He sat against the headboard with his knees pulled up to his chest, the duvet wrapped tightly around his body in a similar fashion to mine. I stood a few paces from the bed, my breathing even and calm. Harry smelt like pain and fear, but beneath the broadcasted emotions I could smell a trace of the Harry I knew before, though much stronger now to my more-than-human sense of smell. He wasn’t breathing, just frozen in place.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked, taking a step forward with the intent to sit on the bed.

Harry visibly flinched away from me. I couldn’t have reached him from where I stood even if I’d bent over and stretched, yet he still seemed terrified. I shuffled backwards instead, hearing his rasping breaths fill the room. Was he… having a panic attack?

“Harry?” I asked, resisting the urge to move forward again.

“Leave me alone,” he gasped, his nails ripping into the duvet.

I just nodded, shocked, and backed out of the room. Whatever had happened to Harry had messed him up completely, and he needed time to get to grips with his new safety. That was what I marked it down to, anyway. I made a note to tell Niall when I saw him, and wandered back into the bedroom.

Niall appeared in the doorway the moment I sank down onto the edge of the bed. He held a blue papery cup in one hand, a lid over the top with a straw poking through it. The letters ‘KFC’ were printed along the side.

“What’s that?” I frowned.

“It’s so you can’t see what you’re drinking,” Niall said excitedly, pressing it into my palm. The scent of oxygen-exposed blood hit me and I blinked. “Maybe if you can’t see it, you’ll be less likely to throw up.”

“But where did you get it from?”

“There was a couple across the street that were just arriving back with it. They left it in their car while they carried the rest of the stuff in. I just took one. It might taste a bit funny though, they had, um, Coke?” He licked his lips. “No, Pepsi in it before that. I drank it, it’s not like it went to waste or anything.” He rolled his eyes at my shocked look. “Don’t worry, it’s raining outside. The sun’s not out, I checked before I left the house. I’ve got a proper glass for Harry. Found it in the cupboard.”

“He’s not good,” I murmured, sipping at the blood. Niall had been right - if I couldn’t see the blood, I could keep it down. The straw looked as though I’d sucked a dark milkshake through it.

Niall’s smile faded. “I know. He wasn’t in a good way this morning, either. He had it the worst of all of us, even before Everett, and I think it’s going to take him a lot longer to recover than it took me.” He shrugged. “We’ll just have to keep feeding him and see if he opens up a little. But I think Louis’ll be able to help him, once we free him.”

I nodded, casting my gaze downwards. There was no guarantee we’d be able to rescue Louis even if we miraculously got past Everett’s guards, and that meant Harry might be closed off forever. I had to hope it was just the side effects of starvation that had built the wall around him.

Niall went off to give Harry his meal. I sat back against the headboard, slurping the blood through the straw. It was too thick to move very fast and climbed the straw sluggishly. If I was being honest, the day-old blood tasted better than when it was straight from the vein, but that might have been the remnants of the Pepsi. By the time Niall came back in to curl up next to me, I had almost drained the cup. He rested his head on my shoulder, his hair still wet, and closed his eyes.

I traced the curve of his body with my eyes, glancing over the scars and bruises, which were quickly healing, and lingering on the movement of the muscles under his skin. Even after the enslavement and torture he’d endured, he was still strong. I wanted his arms around me, holding me protectively, but at the same time I wanted him to ruin me. He wouldn’t want to, I already knew he wouldn’t, but he might if I asked him to. If I told him to.

“Niall?” I asked, leaning over him to put the cup on the nightstand. He hummed questioningly. “Are you still up for sex?”

He laughed into my skin. “Always. Tell me what you want.”

“Well.” I swallowed nervously. Never before had I had to ask for this; it was normally forced upon me. “Remember how you said you wanted to tie me up?”

He opened his eyes and sat up. “You want that? You want me to tie you up?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“Okay.” He got to his feet and started looking around. “We don’t have any rope though, we’ll have to find something else.”

Niall began to search the room. I stayed where I was, scanning the furniture to see if anything useful might present itself. Inside, I felt the thrill of entering new territory. Never before had I asked for anything like this, or anything at all, really. Having to ask Niall felt more right than it would if I’d had to ask anyone else. I felt I was one half of a proper relationship now, where we could both give and take equally.

“There,” I said, pointing at the curtain ties. “We can use those - it’s not like we’ll be drawing the curtains back.”

Niall laughed and took the ties from their rings. He ran his hands down the length of them and looked to me.

“They’re quite thick and coarse.” He held the rope up to show me. “They might rub, and that’ll hurt.”

“That’s okay.” I shrugged and smiled. “I’m sort of into that.”

He knelt on the edge of the bed, stretching out the rope. I held out my wrists, but he pushed me onto my back and straddled my waist. He pressed my wrists to the cold metal of the headboard and wrapped the curtain ties around them, forming a tight, thick knot behind the metal bar. I tilted my head back against the pillows as he ran his hands down the sides of my body, his bare skin creating electric currents against mine, and settled between my legs.

Niall bent down, kissing me softly. His hands found my hips and slowly encouraged me to raise them, until I was resting on his lap. He ran his finger between my legs, slowly pushing it into me. I raised my hips more, stretching towards him. He laughed softly, and slid an arm beneath my back.

“I’m not so good at this whole dominating thing,” he said, smiling into my neck. “I don’t really know how to make you beg.”

“Then don’t. Just fuck me.”

He nodded, and sponged kisses over my shoulder and collarbone. His finger withdrew, wiping across the inside of my thigh, and I felt him push into me. I bit my lip, tensing as he filled me, and pulled against the ties. The rough material scraped across my wrists, a pain not too dissimilar to carpet burn, and I found the sensation to my liking. I pulled against the ties again, harder this time, and felt a rush of pleasure flood my system, both from the pain and Niall, who was just now pressing his hips to mine. He brought his lips back to mine, and I whimpered as he thrust hard into me.

“Like that?” he murmured, cupping my cheek and forcing me to meet his gaze.

I nodded as best I could. He kissed me again. It was mostly fangs and teeth, rough and possessive, exactly how I liked it. He held my bound body close to him as he began an unsure, jolting pace. I rolled my hips against his and arched my back, bringing us closer. He felt  _good_ , more so than anything before. A current ran over my skin, flowing between us like a translucent bridge. When he touched me, I felt the spark of something more. There was nothing better than this, not even the warm, wet rush of fresh blood after a long period of dehydration.

Niall kissed under my chin, down to my collarbones, and pressed his face to my skin. I breathed solely for him; I didn’t need to, but I loved the way he moaned quietly as my chest rose and fell. One of his hands ran down my side, fingers soft as feathers stroking over my skin, stopping to cup my bum and press one dry finger to my other hole. I gasped as his fingertip slid in with a burning sensation that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He smirked against my collarbone and nibbled at my flesh before biting down hard. Blood pooled in the recess he’d created and he lapped it up, his lips tinged crimson.

I lifted my legs and hooked them around his waist. He rose onto his knees holding onto my hips, my body folding at the waist to allow him to do this, and thrust harder. I cried out quietly, biting my lip. Niall drove another dry finger into my ass, twisting both of them until I screamed from the pain. My back was forced against the bed as he fucked me into the mattress. I came then, in that contorted position, and lay limp as he continued to fuck me. He removed his fingers from my ass and pressed them into my mouth until they were dripping with my spit and I couldn’t stand the taste any longer, then forced three of them back into me, ignoring my whimpers.

Everything was too sensitive now, but it still felt amazing in an odd way. I was tired, too tired to continue, my arms bound above my head and my body bent against the bed, but Niall was still going. It was the idea of him just using me, I figured out, the fact that my pleasure no longer meant anything to him. He was using me as a toy, just as he’d used to when I was a little more fragile, and I loved it.

He came with a gasp, sweat beading around his hairline, and pulled out. I watched him with a hooded gaze as he wiped his fingers on his thigh and reached over me to untie me. The air stung as it hit my wrists. My fingertips were numb. When Niall lowered my arms to my chest, I saw the skin on my wrists had been rubbed away, and they were now raw and bleeding. He sucked the droplets of blood away and arranged my body into a more comfortable position, stretched out but still somehow curled in the hollow of his body. I let my eyes flutter shut, feeling his chest move as he breathed.

When I woke, it was darker outside. My wrists had scabbed over, but they were healing quickly. I could feel the moon in the sky, its presence giving me strength. Niall was still asleep beside me. I got out of bed and opened the curtains, standing in the resulting beam of pale light. The light fell partially on the bed, casting a glow over Niall’s face and arm. His silver band glittered temptingly, the skin around it red and swollen. I sat back on the bed and reached for the band. The moment my fingertips touched it, I hissed and pulled away. Of course it would burn me - it was silver, and I was still a night-walker. I examined the wound. My skin was slowly turning red, the equivalent of a brush against a hot pan to a human. I could only imagine how it must feel to Niall.

I felt thirsty again, but the nearest blood source was in the basement, contained in dead bodies in chest freezers. I didn’t want to go down there. Instead, I slipped into my clothes and crept into the hall. Outside Harry’s door, I paused. He was awake, muttering to himself and occasionally whimpering. But he still didn’t seem healthy, mentally or physically, and I remembered his reaction when I’d tried to speak to him earlier. I stepped lightly past his door, as though there was a monster on the other side.

The front door didn’t squeak as I slid outside. It was dark, with a chill in the air; we were fast approaching winter. The street was empty of humans, all of them sensibly in their beds, but that didn’t mean I was alone. I could pick up his scent on the breeze, coming from further down the street, but I could also sense his presence. It was identical to the sensation a human felt upon entering the same room as a night-walker: the sense that a predator was nearing. The sense of danger.

It didn’t click in my brain until I was walking towards him, my hands shoved deep in my pockets. I was suddenly trembling in fear, the way I’d used to. There was no reason to, we were the same now, but his presence still terrified and aroused me. It was the effect he’d always had on humans and lesser night-walkers. I just hadn’t identified it until now.

I rounded the corner and stopped. There he stood, under the circle of a streetlight, in those black skinny jeans and white t-shirt I’d seen him in once before. I stared at him, at the bruises marking his pale skin, at the newly acquired scars and the aura of exhaustion he gave off. He stared back.

“You smell like sex,” he said, after a long silence.

“Three guesses why,” I replied.

He cracked a smile that reached his eyes, but he couldn’t mask the sadness behind it. I took a step forward and he raised his hand to stop me. From his wrist dangled a silver chain, pulled taut and leading into the darkness behind him, glinting in the electric light from above. The skin around the chain was raised and red.

“I missed you,” I whispered.

He heard me. His smile vanished.

“You know this is a trap,” he said, lowering his hand.

I nodded. There could only be one reason he was here. I could smell the hunters now, circling around behind me. They’d stayed downwind so I couldn’t pick up their scent, but now the wind was coming from the other direction. It had been obvious from the beginning. Their footsteps came closer.

Something struck my back, something electrical and painful. I fell to my knees, unable to move, and hunters descended from every angle, fastening chains around my wrists and ankles that burned my flesh. I smelled plastic by the side of my head, fresh and new, and suddenly there was pain in my ears, the scent of my own blood, and I could no longer hear anything. A pressure built in my head and I slumped forward, giving in.


End file.
